


Fire Made Flesh

by FieryPen37



Series: Held Captive [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cersei's execution, Gen, Held Captive verse, Post-Battle, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24572917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FieryPen37/pseuds/FieryPen37
Summary: Daenerys and Co bury those they lost in the Battle for King's Landing
Series: Held Captive [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1043267
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48





	Fire Made Flesh

**Author's Note:**

> Just another drabble from the Held Captive verse. I'm still working on my WIPs, I promise.

Fire Made Flesh

“From fire he was born, to fire I return him,” Daenerys said in a clear, ringing voice. Jon stood at her side, holding the torch, a pulse of heat against the cold. It was a clear, calm night. Not a breath of wind to speak of.

The men had worked tirelessly throughout the day, strengthening fortifications, gathering supplies, emptying the battlefield of the dead, salvaging weapons. The Dothraki had dedicated themselves to the building of pyres, both for their fallen comrades, and for the son of fire—Rhaegal. Now as the stars’ cold fire burned as witness above them, the field outside King’s Landing’s walls bristled with pyres.

Daenerys looked like the glory of her house in black silk, embroidered with blue thread. Gold and silver jewelry snaked up her arms, her cloak striped blue and black. Black for mourning, blue for power. The fire reflected the wet sheen of the silk and the glow of her silver hair. She set the torch to Rhaegal’s pyre. The Dothraki followed, setting their pyres alight. Drogon and Viserion flew overhead, their roars a counterpoint to the shrieking mourning chants of the Dothraki. Those who followed the Seven chanted prayers. The other remaining Lannister stood tied to the support pillar, baleful green eyes locked on Daenerys. There were no words to the enmity that breathed between them, though charged silence arched between Daenerys and Cersei.

Together Jon and Daenerys stepped off the roughhewn platform and climbed the stair to where the crowd watched. Flanked by Jon and Arya, her small council, Daenerys addressed the people. One noted absence was Tyrion. After Jamie’s execution, he’d locked himself in the Tower of the Hand with a note saying he would be blind drunk for the foreseeable future.

“People of Westeros, I greet you not as a conqueror, but as a child of the West. In my time in exile, I have seen the atrocities men commit against each other. From this day forward we must strive to lay down the weapons that divided us. House rivalries, old feuds, division between lords and smallfolk, _lay it down_. Lay it down and let it burn along with the dead. Together we will forge a new world from the ashes.”

Haloed in the flames of the pyres, with Cersei’s screaming howling in the background, Jon was filled with a feeling of awe. This fey creature who wields power and mercy with ease, this woman was his wife? Arya nudged him. With some effort, Jon peeled his eyes from Daenerys’ beautiful face and the spellbinding words she spoke.

“Look,” Arya said. Jon looked out into the crowd. To a man, the gathered assembly fell to their knees before their queen.


End file.
